


Our Last Fairy Tale

by tsukkuyomi



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, I just remembered who it was about, a story I wrote for creative writing class, questions though are still raised, very sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 09:44:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9884174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsukkuyomi/pseuds/tsukkuyomi
Summary: "Once upon a time, there was a tiny little spark. And from the spark came light.And the light came war, and fighting, and death, and peace, and beauty. From the light came the Knights...."





	

It felt cold. Maybe that was because it was but honestly that was all that seemed to be crossing his mind as the man moved along, the chill permeating his gloves, his clothes, his skin; it left him numb yet every step still felt like pain and a struggle persisted. Between him and the cold wind that blew around him. Between him and the snow that seemed to be falling simply to obstruct his way. Between him and this path he found himself taking.

Between him and everything that lay before him and lay behind. The silence of the trek, the snow muffling all noise and leaving only a quiet that would make stronger men cry, and there once had been no man stronger than he, and in it he was tempted, seduced to thoughts he had been trying so hard to not let through, memories and ideas and a notion of what was to be his fate.

Once upon a time, said the voice in his head and he didn't remember having a voice before, everything, yet now it felt as if it was always there and so loud in the backdrop of the world; Once upon a time, there was a tiny little spark. And from the spark came light.

“A spark,” he spoke and his voice managed to echo around him, louder and louder.

And the light came war, and fighting, and death, and peace, and beauty. From the light came the Knights.

“I...” he spoke again and it felt so heavy to speak, “I....was a Knight...”

The Knights were strong.

“Strong...”

The Knights were brave.

“Brave...”

The Knights did not falter or fear and all across the land their name was known and they instead were feared. Under their divine banner, they fought for God and they feared no man, for God was with them.

“And I....”

And that banner became a form. And a name. And a state was born, a brave and strong and fearless state, the strongest of the Knights. Their leader. Their home. Their destiny.

“A fairy tale,” he muttered but even mutters were loud as screams in the tundras, “Only fairy tales...there was no strongest Knight....where has he gone?”

The voice couldn't answer, the voice wouldn't answer, and the man tripped, falling to the snow with a softened sound. The voice screamed out Get up, don't give up, remember who you are, remember what you have done, don't give up now! But the man, felt so tired.

“What am I?” he whispered and crimson eyes closed and tears welled; “Can you tell me that? What do I represent? Where are my Knights, where is my banner, where is my war and fighting and peace and beauty? Where is my death....where is my God?”

His fingers felt so numb, his face felt so numb, his legs felt so numb, his heart felt so empty. A Knight does not cry, the voice admonishes; for we are stronger than all others and we will raise again. We will not fail, we will not die, we will not give up! But the words, they simply fall onto deaf ears and a slipping mind. There was no future where that banner would fly again, nor a future where he would be once more that greatest, that leader, the state that once could have ruled the world. If only God willed it, he would have ruled the world.

“I am lost.” The words came out but there was no soul behind them. “I have lost. God....please....” He opened his eyes and stared with blank eyes into the snow, into the horizon, into the future; blurry figures, voices speaking in a foreign tongue but one he already knew, approaching where he lay. And he closed them again, letting loose the last of his tears. “Please....Gott erfülle....mir meinen....Wunsch....”

With the last of his strength he clenched the cross around his neck, the last of the things precious left to him, and made his plea.

And from the snow came a spark.

And from the spark came a light.

And from the light came a hand, grasping his arm tight and pulling him through. The figures would search; the light would be unfound along with the man, the strongest Knight, with his last plea and wish, now somewhere else.

**Author's Note:**

> The German means "God fulfill my desire". I don't remember why I wrote this but once I read it and remembered who it was about I decided to post it. Basically Prussia's last minutes as his state is being dissolved and his mind starts to unravel. But of course that is not the end for everyone's favorite albino, now is it?


End file.
